What Doesn't Kill You
by Dracossack
Summary: Corporal Beca Mitchell returned home from the war with a wounded body and a broken spirit. Having known nothing but abandonment in life, first from her father and now from Chloe, she was convinced that love would elude her for the rest of her days. Now it's time for an old friend to pick up the pieces and prove that, just maybe, some people are here to stay.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Yes, I know, the last time I started a new story while still working on one, I kind of stopped working on those. I promise that won't happen. I am still focusing on Pure, and I will not stop updating it. I am going to have a good deal more time to write in the coming months as well, so hopefully I will update more frequently. This is just an idea that I had and I wanted to go ahead and post it and see if anyone would actually be interested in reading it. I must point out a small disclaimer that I am not a member of the military nor do I know many people serving in any branch of the military, so please forgive me, and inform me, if I make a mistake. I tried to do as much research as I could to make it as realistic as possible but I am not perfect. Please do let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy the story._

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**What Doesn't Kill You**

Chapter 1:

The sound of rain drops hitting the window tugged gently at the attention of the small girl laying in the white hospital bed. She turned her head as the subtle sound reached her ears before sitting up slowly. It was a minor struggle, her action, as sharp pains racked her tiny frame upon the initiation of her movement. She didn't react. She had already experienced pain that far exceeded this, both physically and emotionally. Once upright, she simply stared out into the bleak, dreary morning as rain continued to hit the glass. A perceptive observer might think the gray weather reflected the girl's mood, but they would be wrong, for even the falling rain exuded more life than her. If one were to ask how she felt, one likely wouldn't get an answer, for she wasn't exactly much one for sharing her feelings. But, if she were honest, she would say she felt empty. It wasn't due to any distraction that the soft knocking on the door of the room in which she sat failed to capture her notice as two women stepped inside; rather, she just couldn't find it in herself to care.

"Corporal Mitchell?" The first woman spoke timidly. Her words were heard but garnered no reaction. "You have a visitor." The second woman, who was taller, with light, cream colored skin and long, flowing brown hair, stepped forward. The girl in the bed turned slowly to face the visitor, the sight of whom slowly returned a bit of life to her small form. But she didn't smile.

"Hey, Beca," the taller girl said as she walked up next to the bed, being careful not to disturb any of the machinery that stood close by. "You okay?" Beca nodded slightly, looking down at the bed to avoid making eye contact with her.

"I'm fine, Stacie," the girl said quietly.

"You don't look fine," Stacie replied. She moved to take a seat next to the shorter girl on the bed, who now looked to be on the verge of tears. Try as she might, she couldn't simply turn off her emotions, though she desperately wished she could as sadness overtook her. Beca turned to look back out of the window as Stacie placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, flinching away from the contact. This action earned a frown from the taller brunette. "Come on, Becs, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Well where should I start? All of these injuries, maybe?" She said bitterly, gesturing to her body as she did, though most of what she was referring to was covered by her hospital gown or bandages. "Or we could go with the 'Dear John' I got from Chloe."

"Oh, Beca..." Stacie replied, her voice full of sorrow. Tears streamed slowly down the short girl's face as she continued to watch the pouring rain, which showed no signs of relenting. So much for being emotionless. Then again, it wasn't like it had ever worked for her in the past. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't really know what the worst part is," Beca said cynically, ignoring Stacie's words. "The fact that she decided to move on without me or the fact that she left me for a _man_." The words were venomous as they escaped her lips. She turned now to face Stacie for the first time since she had entered the room, tears now flowing freely from her eyes. "I loved her, Stacie. And now she's gone." Stacie's heart broke at the little brunette's words. She pulled the short girl into a tight hug as her sobs filled the small room. There, in Stacie's arms, Beca cried in a way the taller girl hadn't seen in years, since the day her father left her and her mother to start a new family. Back then, Beca had run to Stacie's house and sobbed uncontrollably for some time in her best friend's room, but it was nothing compared to the pitiful sounds now emanating from the short girl. Stacie couldn't imagine how she had felt, try as she might to understand her pain, nor could she comprehend the pain of her love's departure. She was at a loss for words. The two girls sat for what seemed like an eternity, with Beca's tormented sobs slowly fading to occasional hiccups and sniffles.

"You don't deserve this," Stacie said as she reached for a tissue to wipe off Beca's face.

"Well, maybe you need to tell the universe that because it's not like this is anything new," Beca replied with a forced smile on her face. She sighed as Stacie moved the tissue across her face, thankful for the small kindness. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Sure," Stacie said, eager to do anything to cheer up her best friend. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know," Beca said with a sigh. Stacie pursed her lips as she thought. "Anything but _her_."

"That's fair, I suppose. Um, let's see... Have you heard David Guetta's new album?"

"I have. It's pretty mediocre compared to his older stuff, though he's been pretty much ruined for me forever."

"Oh, right. Sorry, that was dumb of me," Stacie said quickly, cursing her own stupidity for bringing up the artist responsible for Chloe and Beca's previously shared favorite song. Beca shook her head softly with a small chuckle.

"It's fine, dude," Beca said.

"So what's the weather like in Iraq? Better than here I imagine," Stacie said.

"Everywhere is better than the weather here," Beca replied stoically, earning a giggle from the taller girl. "And it was definitely warmer there."

"I would guess so," Stacie responded as she looked out of the window to see the storm was only worsening, the sound of the rain against the window rapidly growing in volume. "Hey, so, I know we're trying to get off of the subject, but I was wondering, since you were living with Chloe before you left, do you need a place to stay?" Beca nodded slowly, retreating to silence at the mention of her now ex-girlfriend. "My place is always open to you."

"Thanks, Stacie," Beca said with a sigh. While she was certainly grateful, she was never a fan of accepting favors. However, she was even less a fan of being homeless. "I don't want to be a burden though."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Stacie replied brightly. "It'll be fun! It'll be just like we're back in college." She clapped her hands together enthusiastically.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Beca mused, causing the taller girl to erupt in a fit of laughter. It didn't take long for Beca to allow herself to laugh as well, for Stacie's laugh was nothing if not both melodious and contagious. It was nice, really, being able to laugh at something simple. She hadn't exactly had a lot to laugh about as of late, and Stacie beamed triumphantly at having at least temporarily brought a bit of happiness to the girl. When they had calmed down, she looked down at the brunette's small frame and saw several bruises on her arms where her skin was still exposed. There were also various cuts across her cheeks and forehead, with the deeper gashes bound by stitches and butterfly bandages. Again, her heart sank at the sight of her broken form.

"So what happened over there, Becs?" Stacie asked as she indicated the girl's injuries. Beca frowned. "Sorry. I was just pretty worried about you when I heard you were back here and in the hospital. We don't have to talk about it."

"No, it's fine, Stacie. You're my best friend, you deserve to know," she said. Beca took a deep breath before beginning her explanation. "Like I said, I got the letter from Chloe while I was still overseas. Well, needless to say, I didn't react well. I started getting more aggressive and short tempered. I didn't really care about the consequences of my actions. One day, on the way back to base after a routine patrol mission, my squad was attacked. I don't really remember much at all, but I know I acted really recklessly, which led to the death of one of my men, along with all of these wounds, which were severe enough to have me sent back home. I was too messed up to stay."

"Well, at least you're lucky enough to be alive and in one piece. Plus, you're out of the war zone now," Stacie said, but this only earned a scoff from the brunette.

"Lucky, huh?" she said bitterly. "My inevitable court martial would suggest otherwise." Stacie's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Why would they court martial you?" She exclaimed incredulously.

"Yes, why would they?" Came a deep voice from the other end of the hospital room. Beca and Stacie's heads whipped around to see the intruder. In the doorway stood a tall man wearing a dark green coat and slacks with various ribbons decorating his left breast and a hat tucked beneath his arm. His skin was tanned and his dark hair was cut short. He also wore a smirk on his face, the reason for which escaped Beca completely.

"Gunnery Sergeant Swanson?" She said softly. "What are you doing here?"

"Wondering why in the hell you think you deserve a court martial," he answered, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Or did being a hero become a crime in the hour I spent driving here?"

"A hero?" Beca asked in disbelief. Why on Earth would he be calling her, of all people, a hero? "Lance Corporal Allen is dead because of me!" The Gunnery Sergeant's smirk remained, which only served to infuriate Beca. At the sight of her scowl, he held up his hand to reveal an envelope before tossing it to her on the bed, where Stacie was still seated next to her with an arm wrapped around her shoulder. Beca looked at the envelope in confusion for a moment before grabbing it and tearing it open. She quickly scanned the paper contained inside as she unfolded it. She let out a gasp and dropped it into her lap, staring at it unbelieving. "Oh my God..."

"What is it, Becs? What did it say?" Stacie asked, fear and worry evident in her voice as she spoke.

"It says," the Marine began as he took a step closer to the two girls with the same confident smirk still stretched across his face. "That Corporal Rebecca Mitchell is to be awarded the Medal of Honor."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I would just like to say thank you so much to everyone who has followed, favorited, or reviewed the story. This is the most response I've ever gotten from the first chapter of anything I've written, and I do sincerely hope you all continue to enjoy the story. I realize that these two chapters have been pretty heavy on the sad stuff, but I promise it won't be all gloom for the entirety of the story! Again, a huge thank you for all of the support I've gotten already!_

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**What Doesn't Kill You**

Chapter 2:

Beca still clutched the letter tightly in her hands, staring intently at it, as though distrustful of the words she printed there. Her eyes ran across and down the page repeatedly. When she finally realized that the words were not about to magically shift into a summons for a Court Martial hearing, she released a heavy sigh.

"Well... that's definitely not what I was expecting," she said quietly. She looked somberly to the man who had delivered the letter, Gunnery Sergeant Jesse Swanson. "Sir, I don't deserve this."

"That's not for you to decide, Marine," Jesse replied.

"But I-"

"Are you saying that the events documented on that piece of paper didn't happen?" He asked quickly, cutting off her protest.

"No, but this is twisting the facts. It wasn't some incredible, altruistic act like this makes it sound..." Beca said quietly. Jesse raised his eyebrows as he looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue. She took a deep breath and let out another sigh. "I just didn't care if I died."

"Corporal Mitchell," Jesse began. "The fact is, your actions not only saved the lives of over a dozen civilians, they also prevented unnecessary casualties on our side and spared the remaining members of your squad. And those actions were most certainly above and beyond the call of duty. So, Marine, whether you like it or not, you're getting the damn medal."

"But what about Lance Corporal Allen?" Beca countered bitterly. "If it hadn't been for my recklessness, Bumper would still be alive today." A tear began running down her cheek again as she spoke, and Stacie, who had not moved from her seat adjacent to the brunette, squeezed her shoulder as she tried to offer her any measure of comfort. Throughout the conversation, she felt a mixture of both ignorance and helplessness, which infuriated her to no end. "I told him... I ordered him to retreat with the others. But he just had to try to stay and help me. If I hadn't been so reckless, so willing to die, then he would have retreated with me and would still be alive today."

"If you had retreated, the village between you and the base would have been massacred, and we would not have had time to react to the impending assault," Jesse replied. "Look, Mitchell, I know you feel responsible for his death, but Lance Corporal Allen gave his life defending you, his fellow Marines, and the civilians in that village. Don't cheapen his sacrifice by blaming yourself." Beca looked down at her knees, suddenly feeling guilty. She knew that Jesse was right, but she still felt sick, for whenever she thought of the deceased Lance Corporal, her thoughts always drifted to his wife, who would never hold him in her arms again. It was enough to drive Beca mad, and she quickly tried to drive such saddening thoughts from her head. She sighed, knowing that no matter how right Jesse may be, Lance Corporal Allen's dying words and his wife's sobs would haunt her for as long as she lived.

"If anything, he deserves the Medal," Beca said, her eyes still trained on her knees.

"Oh, don't worry," Jesse replied. "Lance Corporal Bumper Allen is posthumously receiving the Medal of Honor."

"Good," Beca muttered. "But that doesn't bring him back."

"Beca..." Stacie said softly. The short girl looked to Stacie with a remorseful expression on her face.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have said that. He does deserve it. I just feel awful for Amy."

"We all do," Jesse replied. "And don't worry about it." The Gunnery Sergeant looked to Stacie before extending his hand to her. "I apologize for not introducing myself, ma'am. I'm Gunnery Sergeant Jesse Swanson. I was Corporal Mitchell's commanding officer." Stacie smiled and shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you," she said. "My name is Stacie. I'm Beca's best friend." Jesse looked at her with a puzzled look on his face.

"Really? I had guessed you were Chloe," he said. Beca instantly released a bitter scoff before turning her head to look out the window which was still receiving a relentless battering from the rain.

"No, I'm afraid not," Stacie said, glaring slightly in Jesse's direction. She supposed she couldn't be too angry. It was obvious that he didn't know the situation, but still, she wished he simply hadn't said anything.

"I got a 'Dear John' from her just before the battle that sent me home," Beca said.

"I'm sorry, Corporal. I shouldn't have said anything. It was out of line," Jesse apologized. Beca knew he was being sincere, which curbed her ire slightly.

"Don't worry about it, Gunny," she replied. Jesse sighed. He looked at his watch before he spoke again.

"Well, I've got a meeting with the SecNav in an hour, so I should get going," he said.

"What does the SecNav want to see you for?"

"Oh, just some paperwork regarding all of these commendations. Honestly, I'd rather not have to deal with it, but it's whatever," Jesse said with a grin. Beca nodded and chuckled slightly, knowing the Gunnery Sergeant detested few things more than paperwork. "Anyway, I'll see you around, Corporal."

"Likewise, Gunny," Beca responded before sliding herself slowly out of her bed. The pain that racked her body with each motion caused her to grunt as her bare feet made contact with the cold, concrete floor. She nearly fell as she tried to stand, requiring Stacie's support to remain upright. "Semper Fi." She saluted Jesse, who returned it, before giving her a smile.

"Semper Fi," he replied. He then turned and left the hospital room. Beca sighed as she collapsed back on to the bed, nearly exhausted from even that small effort.

"You okay?" Stacie asked. Beca laughed quietly as she attempted to remain as motionless as possible on the bed.

"You know, that's the second time you've asked me that today. I don't think my answer has changed," she said.

"Well, excuse me for being worried about you," Stacie replied teasingly. "What's a SecNav?" Beca's eyes opened and angled towards the taller brunette, who was still standing above her.

"The Secretary of the Navy," Beca replied with a smirk.

"Ah. Gotcha," Stacie said. She moved to take a seat in the chair on the other side of the bed, next to the window. "So... What's it feel like to be a hero?"

"Honestly," Beca said. "I still don't think I'm a hero. I mean, reading these words, it feels like it's written about someone else. I wasn't trying to be anything special. I was just doing. It was like I was on autopilot. I barely even remembering doing all of those things they say I did. The real heroes... well, the real heroes are the men and women who never got to come home. They're the ones who deserve the honor. Not people like me."

"I think maybe part of being a hero is that you don't want to be one," Stacie said. "If all you wanted was glory, you'd never be willing to sacrifice yourself for the good of others." Beca pondered the idea, biting her lip as she thought. Stacie giggled slightly to herself, as she found the action rather endearing.

"Maybe you're right," Beca conceded.

"Please, tell me something I don't know," Stacie responded confidently, which was promptly followed by a rolling of Beca's eyes.

"There are forty-thousand muscles in an elephant's trunk."

"What?"

"That's something you don't know," Beca said with a smirk.

"You're such a dork sometimes," Stacie teased, causing Beca to laugh. The two continued to talk, trading jokes and remembering simpler times. For Beca, it was a welcome and pleasant reprieve from the suffering and heartache of the past weeks. Having spent her initial time in the hospital in intensive care, which allowed no visitors, she was left only to her own thoughts for company, which, needless to say, plagued her with painful memories of her now ex-girlfriend, Chloe. Beca could seldom close her eyes without seeing the flash of her red hair or the glint of her pale, icy blue eyes. Stacie's presence did wonders in keeping Beca's thoughts occupied on less sour subjects. Eventually, as the dreary, rainy day faded into night, the brunette's mind began to wander as Stacie rambled about something inconsequential at her job. It didn't take long, however, for the taller brunette to notice the lack of response from Beca. "Hey, Becs?"

"Yea?" Beca replied, looking back up to meet Stacie's gaze.

"What were you thinking about?" She asked. Beca shook her head and looked back down to her knees.

"It's nothing," Beca said.

"Come on, Becs. Talk to me," Stacie implored the shorter girl. Beca sighed, as she knew there was little she could do to divert Stacie's questioning. She laughed internally at how someone who hated sharing her feelings as much as she did could manage to stay friends with so many people who just couldn't take 'nothing' as an acceptable answer.

"It's stupid," Beca said with a sigh. "I was just wondering if Chloe would come back to me if she knew I was getting the Medal of Honor."

"Perhaps. But even if she did, would you really want her to?" Stacie asked. Beca bit her lip as she contemplated the question.

"You know, I actually would. And that's probably the worst part. Even though she's already left me, if she came running back to me right now, I'd want nothing more than to take her back. She was the world to me, Stacie," Beca said. Her voice trembled as she spoke, and Stacie could tell she was near the point of breaking down again. "But... She abandoned me. And as much as I'd want to take her back, I wouldn't. I can't go through this again." She looked to Stacie, who was on the verge of tears herself as her heart, once again, fell to pieces for the injured girl. "Why does everyone always leave?"

With this, Stacie stood up from her seat and moved over to the bed, where she climbed in and lay next to Beca, whose eyes were once again burning with fresh tears. She pulled the shorter girl into a hug, for she knew there were no words she could say to comfort her. All she could do was stay. Beca clutched tightly at the fabric of her shirt as she fell into the embrace, simultaneously thankful for the comfort brought by Stacie's touch and angry that she had been reduced to tears so many times. For someone as proud and resilient as Beca, it was an intensely painful thing to feel the need to cry.

"I'm not going anywhere, Becs," Stacie said quietly as she ran her hand gently through Beca's hair. It wasn't long before Beca's breathing evened out, and Stacie knew that she was fast asleep. She sighed, cursing her own powerlessness in the situation. "I'm never going to leave you."


	3. Chapter 3

**What Doesn't Kill You**

Chapter 3:

Beca sighed as she looked up at the apartment building that stood before her. The simple, elegant architecture bringing back memories of a happier time. She shook her head, scoffing at her own self pity, as she walked slowly to the stairs. She grunted quietly as she walked up, as her body was still recovering from her wounds, which had been numerous.

The short brunette's right arm hung limp in a sling, having received a gunshot wound near the shoulder, which, mercifully, did not damage the joint too severely. Both of her forearms had been heavily bruised, and her left wrist had been fractured, but after a few weeks in the hospital, it was now usable, though still pained, much like the rest of her body. Her movement up the stairs was slow and deliberate, as she had also been grazed by two bullets on her left leg, along with extensive gashes due to shrapnel. As she climbed, her breathing became slightly shallow, for though her cracked ribs were healing, they were most certainly not in good shape. It really was a wonder that she had been discharged from the hospital at all, but she didn't think she could stand another night there. She had to resort to letting Stacie flirt with the doctor a bit to convince him to discharge her early. Beca chuckled as she recalled all of the ridiculous situations Stacie had escaped through her charms over the years. Her beauty didn't hurt either.

When Beca reached her destination however, she let out a heavy sigh. This really was the last place she wanted to be, but Chloe still had quite a few of her belongings. They had lived together, after all. She took a deep breath, steeling herself against the wave of heartache that was sure to follow the sight of the redhead. Once she had managed to calm the rising feeling of nausea, she knocked on the door.

"Tom, could you get the door, please?" She heard from within the apartment.

_"Tom, eh? __What a l__ovely __name__..."_ Beca thought sardonically. She hadn't expected to have to deal with this but she brushed it aside, determined not to let either him nor Chloe see how she was hurting. The door swung open to reveal a tall, broad shouldered, brunette man with slightly tanned skin.

"Can I help you?" He asked with a polite smile.

"May I speak with Chloe, please," Beca asked, doing her best to resist the urge to punch his face in. Violence would get her nowhere, even though she was convinced that she could easily take Tom, despite her injuries. He looked looked... soft. That was the best word for it. He had never had to work or fight for anything in his life, Beca surmised.

"Hey, babe, someone's here to see you!" He called back into the apartment, before returning his attention to Beca. He looked her up and down and smiled.

"Who is it?" Beca heard Chloe ask from within the apartment.

"I don't know, some girl," he replied. Beca braced herself for the sight of her ex-girlfriend as she heard footsteps, but what she saw nearly stunned her into silence.

"You could've have introduced yourse- Beca!?" Chloe exclaimed as she came around Tom's side as he leaned against the door. "Umm... I... Tom, could you give us a minute?" Tom cocked his eyebrows skeptically before stepping back into the apartment. Chloe turned and shut the door behind him. "What are you doing here?"

"You dyed your hair..." Beca said softly as she took in the sight of the blonde locks falling neatly around Chloe's face. Chloe ran a hand through her hair nervously.

"Yea I... I just thought it was time for a change, you know?"

"Clearly..."

"Becs... Beca, what are you doing here?" Chloe asked fearfully. She knew what Beca was capable of, having seen her use her training to break up more than a few fights, as well as beating the living daylights out of a guy who tried to feel up Chloe.

"I'm not going to hurt you or your... _boyfriend_," Beca said through gritted teeth. Despite having seriously considered that course of action, the fact that Chloe feared she would actually take it still caused her to feel indignant.

"Okay..." Chloe said, the relief evident in her voice. It was then that she really took in the sight of Beca. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she wore a gray hoodie and blue jeans. She wore no makeup, the only thing decorating her face being a thin, red line running diagonally down her forehead and across the outer edge of her right eyebrow. "Beca, what happened to you? I heard that they thought you weren't going to make it..."

"Who told you that?"

"Aubrey..."

"I see. Well, no, they didn't manage to kill me, unfortunately," Beca said. Chloe's eyes went wide as she heard Beca's words.

"Beca, please don't say things like that," Chloe said as her eyes started to fill with tears, which only garnered a scoff from the brunette.

"No, Chloe, you don't get to say that to me. You don't get to comfort me. You gave up that right, remember," Beca said venomously.

"Beca, what do you want me to say?" Chloe shrieked as the tears began to flow freely.

"Nothing," Beca replied. "I just came for my stuff." The former redhead nodded, doing everything in her power to keep from sobbing.

"Of course," she managed to say before retreating into the apartment. She returned quickly with a key and held it out to Beca. "I put it all in your storage unit." Beca snatched the key out of Chloe's hand.

"Wonderful," Beca said with false glee. "Can I just ask you one thing?" Chloe nodded. "Does he make you happy?"

"Beca..."

"I'm serious. Does he make you happy?"

"It's not that simple, Becs."

"It is. You just don't want it to be."

"Beca, you know my parents never approved of me being gay..."

"Neither did mine. Hell, even the military didn't until a few years ago."

"Beca, I..."

"Forget it, Chlo," Beca replied coldly. "If living a lie is what it takes for you to be happy, then go for it. It's your life." With that, she turned and walked away as fast as her broken body would carry her.

"Beca, wait!" Chloe called out. The shorter girl only turned her head to look back at her ex-girlfriend. "I... I just want you to know that I really did love you. I just... I'm just not strong enough... I couldn't take it. All of those nights lying awake alone, wondering if you'd even make it back alive. I... You're better off without me." Beca looked intently at the blonde, her steely gaze boring deep into her eyes.

"I know," she lied.

Beca turned and made her way back down the stairs, ignoring the tortured sobs emanating from behind her. She vaguely heard Tom come out and start talking to Chloe, presumably to ask her what was wrong and to comfort her. She hoped he did. As she climbed in to the passenger seat of the silver Nissan Maxima, she received a worried look from Stacie, who sat in the driver's seat.

"How'd it go?"

"Fan-fucking-tastic," Beca muttered. "His name is Tom."

"What?"

"_Tom_," Beca said again. "My replacement."

"Oh, Becs..." Stacie said quietly. Beca sighed as she pressed her head against the window of the vehicle, gazing out into the bleak, misty morning, refusing to let her best friend see the tears once again streaming down her face.

"Take me home, Stacie."


	4. Chapter 4

**What Doesn't Kill You**

Chapter 4:

Beca held her breath as she looked down the shooting range, pointing her Beretta M9 at the ground. The air around her was frigid, and her breath was visible as she slowly released the air in her lungs. The onyx colored metal was cool against her hands, and she drew in another breath before she suddenly raised the pistol and began firing towards several targets downrange. She grimaced slightly as she fired due to the recoil of the weapon in her hand, which caused some discomfort in her right shoulder. When all fifteen rounds had been fired, she dropped the magazine out of the weapon and into her left hand as she thumbed the safety on and slid the pistol into its holster at her hip. She then walked down the range towards the targets to inspect her handiwork.

The results were, in her mind, disappointing, to say the least. True, of the fifteen rounds she fired, nine were fatal shots on the human shaped targets, four were severe injuries, and the remaining two hit high on the shoulders of the target. She sighed as she realized it would take still more practice to return to the level of skill she had when she was deployed for her tour in Iraq. Back then, all fifteen rounds would have been fatal. It wasn't really necessary for her to maintain her marksmanship, as her enlistment was ending in a month, and there was no way she would be sent back overseas since she opted not to re-enlist, but she did it anyway.

When asked why she decided not to re-enlist, she said it was simply that she had seen enough of war. While this was certainly true, it was not the whole truth. The fact was, Beca Mitchell had already given up everything to the Corps. She had nothing left.

Beca wiped the small bead of sweat that was running down her brow as she returned to the other side of the firing range. Despite the cold air of late Autumn in Virginia, she was still sweating slightly after having spent several hours at the range that day. She picked up her bottle of water and took a long drink as she reached the table where all of her ammunition and her duffel bag had been placed. She thought back on the last few weeks: being discharged from the hospital, living with Stacie, her meeting with Chloe...

It was then that her concentration was broken by the sound of a car horn, and she looked up to see Stacie's car in the parking lot on the other side of the fence. Beca smiled as she packed up her equipment and stuffed it into the duffel bag before leaving the range. She tossed her bag in the back before sliding into the passenger seat.

"You know, pretty soon here you're going to have to get a job instead of spending all of your time here," Stacie said.

"Yea, I know," Beca replied with a sigh.

"Why do you spend so much time here anyway, considering you're not re-enlisting?" Stacie asked curiously as she drove the car out of the parking lot.

"It keeps my mind occupied," Beca said truthfully. "And it's relaxing. Plus, you never know what could happen. Better to have the skills and not need them than need them and not have them."

"Fair enough," Stacie responded with a grin. Beca raised her eyebrows as she looked at the taller girl.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Oh, nothing really," Stacie hummed. "It's just kind of funny how much you've changed since we were teenagers. You used to always be the rebel; you never took orders or shit from anyone, you always wore dark make up and an ear spike, got into trouble all of the time." Stacie took her eyes off of the road for a moment to glance at Beca, smirking as she did, before returning her attention back to driving. "And now look at you. You're all disciplined and respectable and actually as badass as you used to think you were."

"I can't tell if that's a compliment or not..." Beca said, earning a giggle from the driver.

"Take it as you like," Stacie replied. "Anyway, what do you want for lunch?"

"Can we go to Kristie's Barbecue? I feel like I haven't been there in ages," Beca requested brightly. Stacie smiled at Beca's enthusiasm as she spoke. After having spent much of the weeks following her hospital discharge in silence or in tears, the little brunette was finally beginning to return to her old self. To be fair, that consisted mainly of sarcasm and grumpiness and condescending remarks, but, occasionally, she would let a genuine smile slip through when she found something particularly amusing or appealing or cute, though she would never admit to it.

"Yes ma'am," Stacie answered jokingly, earning a lighthearted chuckle from Beca. "Any other requests, _ma'am_?" The taller girl finished her statement with a sultry, silky tone that she usually reserved for flirting, but she thought it might be fun to tease Beca a bit, knowing that she was never particularly adept at handling that sort of thing. Sure enough, the girl in the passenger seat turned to face the window quickly, attempting to hide the rising blush on her cheeks.

"No, I think I'm good," Beca replied rather quickly, so quickly, in fact, that Stacie almost didn't understand her. Stacie shook her head and giggled quietly, and they proceeded to the restaurant in silence.

When they took their seats at a booth in the back and Beca had still remained silent, Stacie began to worry a bit that she may have pushed a button she shouldn't have, considering the current state of the shorter girl's love life.

"I'm sorry, Becs," Stacie spoke up. Beca's head snapped up from the menu she was perusing and looked at Stacie with a look of bewilderment.

"What are you sorry for?"

"I thought... I thought you were mad at me for being flirty," Stacie answered, looking back down at her menu. Beca released a quiet giggle in response, which stunned Stacie. Beca Mitchell didn't _giggle_.

"Why would that make me mad? I probably could never be friends with you if that bothered me," Beca said with a wide smirk on her face.

"...You may have a point," Stacie admitted, allowing her own smile to fall into place.

"Of course I have a point," Beca replied smugly.

"Oh, really?" Stacie questioned skeptically, cocking her eyebrows as she looked at the shorter girl.

"I mean, you flirt with _pretty_ much everyone."

"I do not!" Stacie replied indignantly. "Only the hot ones..." She mumbled the last part under her breath, but Beca was still able to hear it, and she smirked even wider, if that were possible.

"So you think I'm hot?"

"What? No, I was just saying, well, I mean, um, it's not that you're _not _hot, you're very hot, but I mean, that's not-"

"Woah, woah there, Stacie, chill," Beca said with a laugh as she placed a hand on Stacie, trying to calm the now frantic girl. "It's okay."

"So you're not mad?"

"Again, Stacie, why would I be mad?"

"I just thought, you know, because of everything with Chloe..." Stacie replied nervously.

"Stacie, it's been over two months," Beca replied. "I can't stay stuck on her forever. Am I completely over her? No. I was in love with that girl. I was completely, unbelievably, _stupidly_ in love with her. And true, it still makes me sad to think about it, but I can't just keep being upset or sad over this." Stacie smiled, marveling at Beca's strength. She didn't know how the shorter girl could go through so much and still talk like this. Stacie knew she certainly couldn't. "And I'm not so prudish as to be offended by your flirting, dude." And then came what Stacie least expected, as Beca leaned over the table slightly, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Besides, I think you're pretty hot too." Stacie's jaw dropped as Beca winked at her before settling back into her seat and resuming her inspection of the menu. Her eyes roamed the laminated pages for a moment before looking back up at Stacie, and she giggled. _Again_. "Close your mouth, dude, we haven't even _ordered_ our food yet."

"And I'm so sorry about that," a female voice came from next to the two girls who turned to see that their waitress had arrived. "They didn't tell me I had another table. I'm very sorry I took so long to get over here."

"It's perfectly fine," Beca said with a smile as she looked the girl up and down, clearly checking her out. She was just a bit shorter than Stacie, with pale, freckle dotted skin and hair that was a fiery, crimson hue. Her eyes were a chocolate brown and her wide smile exposed a set of perfectly shaped, white teeth.

_"Exactly Beca's type,"_ Stacie thought to herself.

"What's your name?" Beca asked.

"Elise," the waitress answered with a grin, which Beca answered with her own smile.

"Well, Elise, I'll have the pulled pork sandwich combo with a coke, _please_," Beca said, her voice dropping in tone slightly while she gave her order, adding a layer of sultriness that Stacie had never heard from the little brunette. Stacie blinked twice in surprise.

"Yes, ma'am!" Elise answered brightly.

"Please, call me Beca," the brunette answered.

"Okay, Beca," Elise replied cheerfully. "And for you, miss?"

"Um..." Stacie realized that she had been so distracted since she entered the restaurant that she hadn't even decided on what she wanted to eat. "The same thing she's having."

"Okay! Two pulled pork sandwich combos and two cokes, coming right up!" Elise said as she walked away, with both girls staring at her as she left.

"So she was pretty hot," Stacie said.

"She's straight," Beca replied. "Pretty sure she has a boyfriend."

"What? How would you know that?" Stacie asked incredulously. Beca shrugged.

"I just do. I'll ask her if you don't believe me," she answered.

"Please do," Stacie said skeptically. When the Elise returned with their drinks, Beca was true to her word and asked if she had a boyfriend.

"Yep!" Elise answered. "His name's Kyle. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering," Beca said.

"Well how did you know?" Elise asked, her eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.

"Lucky guess," Beca replied with a grin. Elise giggled in response before telling the girls to let her know if they needed anything and that their food should be out shortly. After she walked away, with both brunette's eyes trained on her swaying hips as she made her way back to the kitchen, Stacie shook her head and laughed in disbelief.

"You never cease to amaze me, Beca Mitchell."

* * *

_A/N: And we're finally getting away from the sadness! Yay! Well, we're not in the clear just yet, but I just don't have it in me to keep writing sad scenes. Also, I haven't forgotten about my other story, I'm just still deciding on a few things for the next chapters of it and I felt particularly inspired for this story tonight so I went ahead and wrote it. Also, after the one-shot I wrote, I definitely want to write a Staubrey multi-chapter eventually as well. I don't know what it is that I have recently found so fascinating about Stacie. Maybe I've just read too much Bechloe and need a change, haha. A Mitchsen probably won't be too far behind. Also, after reading two reviews expressing the reader's dislike for Tom, I got to thinking, why do we as Pitch Perfect fanfiction writers find it so easy to use Tom as a bad guy, or at least a dislikeable character? I'll admit that I myself have done it in both of my Bechloe stories, and I've read countless others that have as well. I have one or two ideas about why we do this, but I'd like to know what y'all think. If you decided to leave a review, let me know what you think, or feel free to PM me if you want, if you don't mind. If not, that's cool, I'm just curious. :) Thanks again to everyone who has read, favorited, followed, or reviewed! I hope you continue to enjoy the story._


	5. Chapter 5

**What Doesn't Kill You**

Chapter 5:

It was around thirty minutes past eight o'clock in the morning when Stacie looked up from her seat on the couch in her apartment, where she had previously been engrossed in painting in her nails, when she heard the door to her apartment open and then close with a loud slam. She giggled as Beca walked into the room, her clothes somewhat disheveled and her hair in complete disarray. The short brunette froze and her eyes widened as she saw Stacie grinning at her from her seat at the couch.

"Shut up," Beca muttered as she walked past Stacie towards the bathroom, intent on taking a long shower.

"I didn't say anything," Stacie commented as she went back to applying her nail polish.

"You were thinking it," Beca replied before changing her mind and moving to the kitchen and turning on her coffee maker, one of her most prized possessions, figuring at the moment she needed caffeine more than a shower.

"Becs, please, you should know me well enough by now that I would never criticize someone for getting lucky," Stacie responded, feigning hurt. "If anything, I'm jealous. That girl you left with was smoking hot."

"Maybe she should have invited you then," Beca murmured as she sat down in the recliner next to the couch while she waited for the water in the coffee maker to heat up. Stacie raised her eyebrows as a sly, mischievous smirk stretched across her face, the sight of which caused Beca to roll her eyes and shake her head. "Instead of me."

"Aw, you're no fun," Stacie said. Beca stuck her tongue out in response, earning another giggle from the taller girl. "But seriously, Becs, what are you complaining about?"

"I don't know," Beca said, releasing a heavy sigh. "It just hasn't been the same since... Well, it just isn't the same anymore."

"I thought you said you were moving on?"

"I am. I mean, I'm trying, but it's not like I can just turn off my feelings for her, no matter how much she hurt me or how determined I am to forget about her."

"I understand," Stacie said.

"No, you don't!" Beca replied harshly, her temper suddenly flaring. She wasn't sure whether it was actually that Stacie's comment had angered her or if it was just built up stress and bottled emotions, but, either way, she couldn't stop the words that were about to erupt from her mouth. "When were you ever in love? When did you ever have _anything_ more serious than a one night stand?"

"When I became friends with you," Stacie replied calmly, unphased by the sudden and, admittedly, unexpected outburst. Guilt washed over Beca as she was hit with Stacie's words.

"Stacie, I-"

"You're right, as far as romance goes, I suck. All I've ever known is one night stands and casual hook ups. But that doesn't mean I don't have any serious relationships. You're my best friend, Beca," Stacie said with a pointed look to the shorter girl. "And I take that very seriously."

"I'm sorry," Beca said quietly. "I'm so sorry, Stacie. I shouldn't have said that."

"Oh, don't worry about it, dude. It's fine. It probably wasn't a great idea for me to say I understood, because you're right, I don't. I was just trying to make you feel better," Stacie replied, and a small grin slowly formed on Beca's face.

"Thanks, Stacie," she said. It was then that the girls heard a chime from the kitchen, alerting them that Beca's coffee was ready to be prepared. "Awesome." Beca jumped up from the couch and practically sprinted to the kitchen. Stacie laughed to herself, finding it endlessly amusing how enthusiastic the girl was about coffee and, to an even greater degree, food.

"By the way, isn't your Medal of Honor ceremony tonight?" Stacie called after her into the kitchen.

"Yeah," Beca answered before walking back into the living room with her cup of coffee in hand. She blew on the surface of the hot liquid before taking a sip, smiling in satisfaction as she tasted it. "You're still coming, right?"

"Well, duh," Stacie said gleefully.

"Great. I've been pretty excited about having the hottest date at the White House," Beca replied with a smirk.

"Oh, so it's a date, hmm?" Stacie asked as she cocked her eyebrows at the shorter girl.

"Only if you want it to be," Beca answered with low, sultry tone, looking slyly at the taller brunette. The two girl's stared at each other for a moment before they both burst into a fit of laughter.

"One of these days, you're going to mean it when you talk to me like that," Stacie teased when she finally regained some semblance of composure.

"Perhaps," Beca mused as she rose from her seat. "I guess you'll just have to stick around and find out."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere," Stacie said.

"I know," Beca replied as she smiled fondly at her closest and oldest friend. She truly couldn't express how much it had meant that she had been there for her when everyone else had abandoned her. Beca began to wonder if maybe Stacie was actually right, but decided not to dwell on it, as she still wasn't done dealing with the emotional damage Chloe had wrought and she wasn't about to risk losing her best friend. Also, it wasn't by any means unusual for Stacie to flirt with her or for them to joke about going on dates, she had been doing it nearly as long as they had been friends, so she didn't think too much of it. "I'm gonna go hop in the shower now."

"Good, you stink of sex," Stacie commented, waving her hand in front of her nose. Beca rolled her eyes as she began to head towards the bathroom.

"You know you love it," she said as she walked away. Stacie chuckled as she resumed her nail polishing. It was about half an hour or so before Beca returned from her shower, wearing an oversized, gray t-shirt with a navy USMC logo across the front, during which time Stacie had completed her work on her nails. Once Beca had taken her seat at the couch, she grabbed the remote and turned on the television, idly flipping through channels in search of something interesting to watch. She eventually settled on JAG. It ended up being a rather lazy day for the girls, filled mostly with watching television and idle chatter. As the afternoon approached, Beca informed Stacie that they should probably get ready, seeing as it was roughly an hour long drive from Stacie's apartment to Washington D.C. and they were expected to arrive early. Stacie retreated to her room while Beca moved to the guest bedroom, which had become hers for the past several weeks, so that they could change into their attire for the event.

Beca emerged from her room wearing her military dress uniform, which consisted of a navy blue skirt and coat over a white button-down shirt and a black tie. The coat had golden buttons and crimson embellishments on the sleeve and shoulder. An orange and red insignia, signifying her rank of Corporal, adorned the upper sleeves, and various ribbons were placed across her chest. Her hair was styled into a neat bun and she wore a minimal amount of conservative makeup. As she exited her room, Stacie whistled at Beca as she took in the sight of the girl in her uniform, which, in Stacie's opinion, looked absolutely stunning on her.

"Damn, girl," she said. "I think maybe it'll be me with the hottest date, not you."

"Whatever you say, dude," Beca replied skeptically, though a small grin did make its way onto her face in response to the compliment. Stacie, not to be outdone, however, had stepped into the central room of the apartment wearing a long, simple, and elegant red dress that ran all the way down to her feet, which were in a pair of black heels. The front of the dress wrapped around the back of her neck and came down over chest, revealing just a hint of cleavage and leaving her back and shoulders bare. "And what was it you were saying about me _not_ having the hottest date?"

"You don't think it's too much?" Stacie asked nervously as she looked down, examining her dress. "I've never exactly been to the White House before."

"I think it's perfect," Beca said with a smile. "Now come on, I don't want to be late."

"Jeez, you're starting to sound like Aubrey," Stacie teased, referencing one of their friends from college who was known for her uptight and controlled manner. Her and Beca took a while to get a long, being so vastly different in personality, but they eventually did for Chloe's sake, considering she was Aubrey's best friend.

"You did not just say that," Beca said in disbelief as she looked at her friend with an expression of utter horror across her face.

"Okay, Becs, whatever helps you sleep at night," Stacie said with a wink before picking up her purse and heading for the door.

"You're a jerk," Beca said as she fell in behind Stacie.

"Is that how you talk to the girl who so graciously opened her home to you?" Stacie asked.

"I'm not winning this one, am I?"

"Nope," Stacie replied with a grin as they made their way towards her car.

* * *

_A/N: I'm sorry if the plot seems to be dragging along, but I'm trying to pace it so that it doesn't move too fast. I meant to include more, but I really wanted to skip from where I ended on to the next scene, and I hate doing in-chapter scene changes without transitions, unless it's in a one-shot. That being said, I hope you like this chapter, and thank you so much, as always, for any and all support, especially the wonderful and kind words in your reviews. :)_


	6. Chapter 6

**What Doesn't Kill You**

Chapter 6:

_Beca covered her face as the ground exploded a few feet away from her, sending all manner of shrapnel, dirt, and debris flying in her direction. She felt her skin stinging as some of the shrapnel cut her face, but the explosion caused no real damage. She grunted as she stood up from her cover behind a large boulder and raised her rifle before firing off seven rounds, each shot finding it's way into the hearts of three nameless combatants that had been attacking her. Bullets continued to fly past her and she ducked back under her cover to avoid them. Her heart was pounding from the adrenaline and her were muscles burning from the continued exertion of fighting._

_She checked the magazine currently loaded in her rifle, finding she only had six bullets left. She cursed as that was the last bit of ammunition she currently had for the rifle. Her Beretta M9 still sat loaded in hits holster with three extra magazines strapped to Beca's belt, but sixty rounds would only go so far, especially considering the limited range of the pistol. They had to count._

_Beca jumped up from her cover and began to run, knowing she needed to keep moving or the enemy would overwhelm her. The final shots of her rifle were used as suppressing fire as she moved, forcing her enemy to take cover. One careless soldier attempted to return fire but was quickly put down by Beca's final bullet._

_The brunette Marine dove behind a large rock formation, but not before feeling a searing pain tearing into her right shoulder. She groaned as she quickly discarded her now useless rifle before, with a great deal of effort, pulling the pin from one of her grenades and hurling it at her attackers. It likely wouldn't cause any damage, but she needed to keep them wary of rushing her, especially since now she was clearly injured. Her breath was ragged as she crouched between the boulders, surveying her shoulder to find she had been shot. Luckily, it was through and through and had missed all of her bones, but it hurt like hell and was rapidly leaking blood down her arm._

_While attempting to bandage the wound enough to keep her from bleeding out too quickly, she came to realize that she was probably not going to make it out of this alive. She was alone, by her own choice, facing a force of unknown size with nothing but a pistol, a knife, two grenades, and a flare. However, retreat was not an option._

_She had thought she was ready to die when she ordered her squad to retreat while she stayed behind to cover them. It wasn't like she really had anyone to go home to any more. But when she had seen Bumper's lifeless body, a result of him disobeying her orders to stay and help, she began to feel the fear that should have kept her out of this situation in the first place. Beca shuddered. Despite the intense heat, she was cold._

_"I don't want to die..." She whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out all thoughts of fear and doubt before she stood and turned, raising her pistol with her uninjured arm before pulling the trigger._

Beca screamed as she shot up in her bed. She looked around the room frantically, her eyes darting back and forth, scanning for any threats as she pulled the pistol from beneath her pillow and pointed it at the door. She tightened her grip on the pistol as the door handle began to turn.

"Hey, Becs, are you okay?"

Beca blinked as she heard a soft female voice coming from the other side of the door as it slowly opened.

"I heard you screa- OH MY GOD!" Stacie shrieked as she realized Beca was pointing a gun at her and instantly hit the floor. "Beca! What the hell are you doing?"

"Stacie?" Beca asked hoarsely.

"Duh! This is my apartment! Put the damn gun away, Beca!" Stacie yelled from her position on the floor.

"I'm sorry..." Beca whispered guiltily as she flipped the safety of her pistol back on before dropping it next to her on the bed. She covered her face as she realized what had nearly happened. "Oh my God, Stacie, I'm so sorry."

Stacie stood up to find the shorter girl sobbing into her hands. Immediately, Stacie moved to turn on the lamp standing on the bedside table before she sat on the bed next to Beca and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a hug. She noticed that the crying girl was covered in sweat and her breathing was rather heavy.

"Shh, Becs, it's okay," Stacie cooed comfortingly.

"No it's not," Beca replied in a defeated voice. "God, I'm so screwed up."

"No, you're not, Becs," Stacie said. "You've been through more than most people can imagine. That doesn't mean you're screwed up." Beca remained silent. It was then that Stacie noticed the dark circles under the smaller brunette's eyes. "How long has it been since you've actually slept?"

"Hell if I know," Beca muttered.

"Nightmares?"

"Memories..."

Stacie bit her lip as she looked at the girl, trying to think of what she could possibly say. She knew that she had no way to relate to Beca's experience, no way to understand what she was going through. Still, that wasn't going to stop her from trying to make her best friend feel better.

"Hey, listen, it's only like one in the morning, and you're super sweaty. Why don't you go take a quick shower and I'll make you some hot chocolate, okay?" Beca nodded and silently got up from the bed and walked towards the bathroom. Stacie sighed before making her way to the kitchen to prepare Beca's drink. Next to coffee, it was the shorter girl's favorite, and since it was clearly too late for coffee, got chocolate was the obvious choice. Stacie finished with it long before she heard the shower turn off. She microwaved the drink for a minute to warm it back before she walked back to Beca's room, setting the mug down on the bedside table before moving her pistol off of the bed, placing it in the drawer of the small table.

"Thanks," Stacie heard Beca say as she picked up the mug and sat on the edge of the bed, blowing softly over the surface of the light brown liquid before taking a sip.

"No problem. But, Becs, do you think you need to see someone about this? I mean, you freaked me out pretty good, and you're not sleeping well," Stacie spoke with concern evident in her voice. Beca shook her head in response.

"No," she said. "I'll get over it. Besides, it's not usually this bad. I think having to hear all about what happened over there and having people try and talk to me about it at the ceremony last night just kind of got to me, you know?" Stacie nodded. The ceremony for the awarding of Beca's Medal of Honor had been a rather taxing affair, especially for the Marine herself. There were so many Senators and Congressmen and Agency Directors, not to mention the President himself, all clambering to meet with her, shake her hand, offer her both their congratulations and condolences, and thank her for her meritorious service.

Beca scoffed at the thought. The whole event felt rather hollow when she thought about it. Well, all except for Jesse's speech about Bumper. She thought that was rather beautiful, and the expression on Amy's face when she accepted the Medal for her fallen husband was nothing short of heartbreaking. There was pride and there was joy but there was also incredible sorrow in her eyes as her husband was given the highest honor the country would award. Through the whole thing, she only shed a single tear.

"Some things never change. You're still too damn stubborn to ask anyone for help, even if you really need it," Stacie commented, earning a small laugh from Beca.

"I guess so," she admitted. "I think maybe once I get a job, I'll be fine. It'll give me something new to concentrate on and take my mind off of all of this crap that's happened lately."

"If you say so, Becs," Stacie said with resignation, still wishing that she could help the shorter girl. She stood up and walked towards the door of the bedroom, taking Beca's now empty mug with her. Beca frowned slightly as Stacie bid her goodnight, though she didn't let her see it. For some reason, Beca didn't want Stacie to leave. She figured that she just missed having the comfort of Chloe's presence next to her while she slept. She rolled her eyes at herself, thinking that she was barely above pathetic with that train of thought. Still, she wouldn't have minded Stacie staying with her, but that would have required her asking the busty brunette, which, Beca being the stubborn woman she was, would not happen. Especially not when she thought she was simply subconsciously missing Chloe, who by all rights was the last person she wanted to see. With an audible scoff, she switched the lamp off and fell back onto the bed, pulling the sheets tightly around her before drifting off into a sleep filled with images of, quite possibly, the last person she expected to invade her dreams.


	7. Chapter 7

**What Doesn't Kill You**

"You look like hell."

Beca turned her head from where she had been previously looking out of the large window to face the tall, blonde girl seated across the table from her.

"You always did know just what to say to make a girl feel better, Aubrey," Beca teased, though she had to admit, there was likely some truth to what her friend had said, especially if the unfortunately prominent dark circles under the brunette's eyes were anything to go by.

Aubrey smiled at Beca's sarcastic quip. It was a far cry from what one would have expected of a typical exchange between the two girls, who had been less than amicable in the early stages of their friendship. Seeing as how Aubrey had been Chloe's best friend when she and Beca had started dating, the brunette had put forth a great deal of effort into getting along with the taller girl. Being both incredibly headstrong, though with extremely differing ideas on pretty much every matter imaginable, it was quite a long time before the two girls could even be in the same room without starting some kind of argument.

"Seriously though, are you okay? You look like you haven't had much sleep," Aubrey asked. Beca sighed as she looked back out of the window, observing the people walking on the sidewalk outside of the small diner in which she was seated with Aubrey.

"I haven't as much as I'd like, but it's no big deal," Beca replied nonchalantly, trying to down play the troubles she'd been experiencing as of late, knowing Aubrey would only get on her case to go to therapy or something equally as unpleasant. Beca already got enough nagging on that matter from Stacie. The taller girl pursed her lips as she looked at the Marine, clearly understanding what the girl was trying to do, but knowing there was nothing to be done about it, due in no small part to their shared trait of incredible stubbornness. "I'm fine, Aubrey. Really."

"I see," Aubrey said with a nod of her head. "I heard you went to see Chloe."

"She tell you about that?" Beca asked, arching her eyebrows slightly as she questioned Aubrey.

"She did..." Aubrey began. "For what it's worth, Beca, I think it was really shitty of her to do what she did, especially the way she did it." Beca shrugged.

"Well, it's not like there's any use worrying about it now," the brunette answered. "As long as she's happy, I'll just have to live with it."

"Oh, Becs..." Aubrey said sadly.

"I'm okay, Aubrey. Really..." she responded. "Besides, aren't you supposed to be on her side? She is your best friend and all." Aubrey scoffed.

"All the more reason to disapprove of her poor decisions," she stated rather resolutely. "Especially since I'm quite certain one day she'll wake up full of regret, realizing just how wrong she was." Beca let out a soft giggle as Aubrey spoke, which took the taller girl by surprise.

"Man, is something else," Beca said with a smirk. "Would you ever have guessed all those years ago you'd be saying those things about Chloe for my sake?"

"Unlikely," Aubrey admitted. "But, then again, who would have guessed that the rebellious little alt girl that always wore those ridiculous ear monstrosities would turn into not only a respectable member of society, but a highly disciplined soldier?" Beca let out a melodious laugh at Aubrey's statement.

"You know, you're not the first to have said that lately," Beca said. "I guess I did kind of pull a one-eighty with that one."

"If that's a one-eighty, I can't imagine what you would call earning the Medal of Honor," Aubrey replied with a knowing smile. Again, Beca shrugged.

"Who knows. Sometimes it still doesn't feel real," she answered. "None of this does, to be honest." Beca picked up her mug of coffee and took a careful sip, grimacing as it was now cold, having been brought by their waitress some time ago. "You think they're going to bring our food any time soon?" Aubrey glanced at her watch, realizing they had been sitting at their table for well over forty five minutes since they placed their orders and had received nothing but their drinks.

"That's a question I think I'll present to the manager," Aubrey said as she stood up from their table and walked towards the nearest waiter. Beca chuckled and shook her head, silently hoping Aubrey wouldn't be too hard on the poor guy, though she was quite ready for her food. She looked out of the window again, watching the random people passing by. There was something rather unremarkable about the sight of people going about their daily lives, the normalcy of it all bringing a small measure of comfort to the Marine. As she watched, a trio of people caught her eye. There was a tall, blonde man walking next to a raven-haired woman. Between them was a child of no more than six or seven years old, holding on to the hands of his parents and smiling with glee as they lifted him into the air, swinging him gently before returning him to the ground. Beca smiled as she watched the scene taking place, wondering if she'd ever achieve such a thing, though she highly doubted it. If you asked her why she held such doubt, you wouldn't likely get an answer, and most would perhaps assume it was something relatively self-depreciating and unnecessarily pessimistic. If you were to get an answer though, it would be that she was a realist, and realistically, she knew that with all of her experience of abandonment and loss, she would not easily find someone willing to tolerate her own fears and reservations and whom she would ever trust enough to mean it when they said they would never leave her. She was pulled from her sad contemplation by the sound of Aubrey settling back into the booth. "The food should be here any minute." Beca nodded in response.

"I hope you weren't too mean to the staff," she joked. Aubrey's mouth fell open as her face adopted a look of pure indignation.

"I would never be mean. I simply reminded them of our presence and that we have been waiting an unacceptably long amount of time for our order," she responded seriously. "Besides, you should be thanking me. The manager is giving us a discount as an apology."

"So you were mean," Beca teased with a smirk, earning an eye roll from the blonde.

"And you are incorrigible," she responded.

"Can't argue there," Beca admitted.

True to the manager's word, the food arrived shortly, and the pair ate their food in relative silence, with only a few passing comments here and there.

"So Stacie tells me you're looking for a job now," Aubrey said once they had finished and their plates had been cleared away.

"Yep," Beca replied. "I can't live off of my pension alone. Besides, I can't handle sitting around doing nothing much longer."

"Didn't want to re-enlist?" Aubrey asked, and Beca's only response was to shake her head. "I guess I can imagine you wouldn't. It almost doesn't seem fair that you still have find yourself a whole new career and way to support yourself after everything you've been through." Beca shrugged.

"Life isn't fair," she said nonchalantly.

"No, I suppose not..." Aubrey replied quietly.

* * *

_A/N: I really don't know where exactly I'm headed with this story at the moment. I'd like to say that I'll update sooner but that's not likely to happen until I get some more things figured out for this story. That being said, it is by no means going to be abandoned, and I hope those of you that enjoy reading it will bear with me. Thanks :)_


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